


Under Thrúdheim, but never over Loki.

by Keenir



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: ...well they're young anyway, Battle Of Harokin, Childhood Memories, F/M, Gen, Kid Loki, Kid Sif, Loki shape-shifts, Memories, Minotaur - Freeform, Thor II spoiler, light mourning, references to Loki's salmon incident, shape-changer, shape-shifting maggots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the day when young Sif met Loki in the cavern weir beneath Thrúdheim, to the battle of Barokin, it never prepared her for when Thor would bring news of Loki's fate on Svartalfheim to her as she sat recuperating in Thrúdheim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Thrúdheim, but never over Loki.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhombus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhombus/gifts).



> [a broad-weaved wovenshirt](http://24.media.tumblr.com/12b5e97c35081c1ac123fcd413ecb33f/tumblr_mwcg8jeLvS1r7zq3to3_250.jpg).
> 
> I used a few of your prompts...  
> * Loki shapeshifting and that being a really big but hella confusing turn-on for Sif, especially when femme!Loki makes the most appearances.  
> * Pre-Canon Sif POV commiserating with Loki over fathers who are disappointed in their life choices,  
> * [TDW SPOILERS.] From Thor's convo with Sif about her post-battle celebration that almost caused another war (can't remember the name of the place). Loki is clearly involved in this mischief. Sif has never told Thor the real story. [SPOILERS]  
> * [TDW SPOILERS] Thor tells Sif of Loki's heroics on Svartalfheim. She questions why he's telling her all this. He answers that they both know why he is. He's known for a while. Did Loki tell him? He shouldn't believe anything Loki says. No, Loki didn't say a word. He didn't have to. [SPOILERS]

* * *

**_PRESENT:_ **

**_Gladsheim_** was more than the hall within which sat the kings and queens of Asgard, more than the hall where the valiant feasted.  It was also the place Thor knew to go to see if his friends had survived their joint treason.  Here he found and spoke to Fandral and Volstagg and Hogun (and was pleased that his friend had been able to return in time to lend his assistance), thanking them for everything; but saw no sign of Sif.

 

Seeing Eir, Thor asked “I would speak with Sif.  Where is she?”

 

“I have tended and repaired her as much as I can; now she requires quiet in her recuperation,” Eir said.  As one of Frigga’s Chosen, she had sanction to be as insultingly blunt as she chose to – Thor was glad this wasn’t one of those times.

 

“May I see her?  I bring news.”

 

“You were victorious.”

 

“News concerning Loki.”

 

“Thrúdheim.”

* * *

**_VERY PAST:_ **

**_Cavern weirs_** were the home of more than just fishes.  Cavern weirs such as these were the bastions of relict populations of a race five Realms thought extinct, and two Realms didn’t believe ever really existed.

 

“Do you tell tales?” Sif asked one which trundled past her feet.  “Do you regale your younger friends with stories of how the flesh of Ymir tasted as your ancestors burrowed and feasted in his flesh?”

 

The giant maggot did not answer her, but instead bumped into another of its kind, and they swiftly transformed into beasts bedecked with horns and armor and antlers as they tussled and shoved at one another.  Everything but kicking one another like the horses which grazed on the rocky slopes and natural terraces above the cavern ceiling. 

Such complete alterations of form and nature were still found throughout the Nine Realms, in those races whose lineages stemmed from those which had fed upon Ymir's flesh - Jotun, Aesir, Thurs... The talents were quite rare, but still existing.

Not feeling silly that the beasts were ignoring her attempts to be a good guest, Sif sighed and watched them go at it.  She ran her hands up and down her bare forearms and over the broad-weaved wovenshirt’s sleeves.

“What are you doing here?”

 

Sif’s eyes narrowed.  “Who said that?” she demanded, even as the tussling was-maggots seemed oblivious to something as peripheral as voices in cavern.  “You do realize it’s rude to ask things of others, when you haven’t first offered a name yourself.”

 

“I am Lower Than Highest, then,” he offered her.  “What are you doing in my cave?”

 

“Your cave?  This cave is on my family’s land.  You are thus the trespasser I am within my rights to slay,” Sif said.

 

“Look up…just a moment.”

 

As soon as Sif looked up, he dropped down from the ceiling, landing beside her on the boulder’s flat.  Sif tensed at being so near to a cri, a worse-than-dragon beast which could hunt in every one of the Nine Realms with equal ease and never would stop growing.

 

…and this cri was transforming into a boy about her own age.  One Sif recognized from brief attendances in Court and from watching parades.

_Oh HeltakemenowIamsooooooodead_ , Sif rued.  “Prince Loki, I…” and had no idea how to proceed.

 

“What was that about trespass and right to slay?” Loki asked her, smiling at the sight of her expression.

 

Sif shut her mouth, schooling her face into a carefully blank and neutral look.

 

This seemed to disappoint him.

 

“Will you say nothing?” he asked her.

 

And she did indeed say nothing.

 

“Very well,” Loki said, and sat down beside her.  “Father troubles,” he deduced.

 

“Your father is trouble?” Sif asked, wondering if that counted as treason, to ask that, even if it did seem to be more a reply than a statement.

 

“Mine is as well as yours is,” Loki said.  “Care to share?”

 

“I do not.”

 

“Very well.  I shall tell you of mine, and you may in turn opt to offer up your own lamentations on the subject.”

 

“I doubt that,” Sif said.

 

Loki shrugged.  “My father, the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms, feels I am wasting my talents in learning magic.  I should be improving my skills with the bow, the spear, or some other form of physical weapon,” and he looked at Sif to see her reaction.

 

“Does shape-shifting count?” she asked when it felt like he was expecting her to say _something_.

 

Based on Loki’s face, she deduced that that hadn’t occurred to him and possibly also not to Odin.

 

“An interesting idea,” Loki said, taking the measure of it in his mind.  “Set magic-learning aside, and focus my efforts and grand intellect to the mastery of shape-changing for battles and other uses.”

 

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Sif said.

 

“You can explain what you meant, after you tell me why you’re here in my cave you called yours.”

 

Sif nearly swallowed, but controlled her nervousness, determined not to let him see her show weakness.  “I want to be a warrior.  My father and my aunts disagree.”

 

“They would rather you be a prophetess, a seer?” Loki asked.  _That tends to be a profession composed nearly entirely of women._

 

“My aunts wish me to be a sorceress.  My mother would have me learn architecture.  And my father wishes me to join the cavalry.”

 

“Horses are not entirely unpleasant.”

 

Sif gave him what he considered a dirty look.

 

“Would you like a patron?” Loki offered.  “If I back your decision, they would have to withdraw their objections to you joining the ranks of the warriors of Asgard.”

 

Sif got in his face, her eyes sharp as freshly-broken obsidian, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.  “I.  Want.  No.  Gifts,” she warned him off.

 

Loki blinked.  “Very well,” and let another change come over him, this one being more small-scale and subtle.

 

Sif’s eyes widened when she saw that, where a moment ago she had been facing Prince Loki, now she was looking at a Princess.  “Stay as long as you like,” she informed Sif.

 

“Than-”

 

Loki stole a kiss, and held there, neither she nor Sif fighting it.

 

Sif could feel something odd on her lips, and when the kiss ended, she looked at Loki – and saw Loki was a he again, _Did I feel her changing back into him?_

 

“I must henceforth remember,” Loki said to himself, “I cannot concentrate on holding a form, when kissing someone.”

 

She opened her mouth to say something, but by the time she got to “Loki,” he was already gone, body and voice no longer visible in the caverns.

 

As well the armored beasts were gone once more, their having transformed back into giant maggots.

* * *

**_PAST:_ **

**_Harokin_** was this world’s name, a name heavily bastardized by inhabitants that a human would call Minotaur.  The Harro were pupils of the Dwerrow – of the Dwarves.

 

Having quelled one significant battle which could have overtaken nearby continents and worlds, Loki and Sif were visiting a half-ruined temple.  Had Loki known the confession he would hear in the future, he might have remarked on irony and begun to look for infants in that Harro temple.

 

Rather, they were looking skeptically at the clay horse god perched in the most important part of the temple.

 

“If that is supposed to be Slepnir, it is a horrid rendering,” Loki said, his muscles still too awake to relax or stand still.

 

“Six legs,” Sif agreed, her blood still singing the song of a battle so soon ended.

 

“I was referring to the musculature, but yes, the leg count needs work too.”

 

“I suppose you believe you could have done better?”

 

“Easily,” Loki said, and reshaped himself into a horse – but before he could turn his face into an equine one, Sif grabbed him by his cheeks and pulled his face to hers for a deep kiss.

 

As their lips moved to kiss each side of the other’s lips, the upper lip, the lower lip, both lips once more, Sif muttered to him before he could think of trying otherwise, “Same rule as always, Loki, nothing more while you’re something else,” but not about to break away.

_There was an exemption, but she was essentially me already._

 

The only thing that interrupted them was the sound of something clattering to the floor and the hooves of a biped running away and shouting “MILORD!  MILORD!”

 

This latest kiss was broken off, and Loki returned to his normal appearance by the time the interloper had returned with his Harro master and Thor.  “She turned him into a mockery of the god!” the interloper cried, literally.

 

Knowing how to end this before it spiraled out of control, and regretting that calling out an inability was the only option, Thor said, “Sif, well I know you would prefer not to do so, but please demonstrate why that is an impossibility.”

 

Lowering her head respectfully to him, Sif said “Very well,” and held out her hands, just far apart enough that any sorcerer or sorceress could have created a fireball sufficient to bake the interloper.  Sif’s hands generated only sparks. _And that’s part of why I didn’t wish to do as my aunts bid me do – but only part of why._  “Will that be sufficient, Prince Thor?” she asked.

 

“It shall,” Thor said, looking at the interloper’s master.

 

“My apologies for the accusation, Lady Sif Warriorleader,” the interloper’s master said, using both of her war-gained titles: Lady (Dwarven) and Warriorleader (Harro).  “Be quite assured, we penalize false accusers with great severity.”

 

“Then they should thank their god that I am in a merciful mood,” Sif said.  “Find something that requires silence, something in darkness perhaps, and assign it to the one who shouted for you to come here.”

 

The master lowered himself in a bow, face tilted up with throat exposed – a bow like Vanir or humans, that would have pointed those horns right at her in a gesture of hostility.  “Your beneficent will be done,” the master said.

 

The interloper was hauled away, still glaring at Sif and Loki.

 

“Where will that one be taken?” Loki asked.

 

“Our labyrinths share walls which absorb light cast from torches and hands, bury sounds of pain and throat, and clean away marks or signs of where one has already passed,” the master said.  “The prisons of Asgard are made from a similar material, as I am given to understand.”

 

“Correctly,” Thor said.

* * *

**_PRESENT:_ **

**_Thrúdheim_** was a misnomer.  Not a Realm or even a world, it was a small estate capping one of the mountains of Asgard.  Beneath Thrúdheim lay the cavern weirs.  On the boulder-covered and snow-patched surface of Thrúdheim grazed the horses of Asgard.

 

Thinking nothing wrong of having nothing thrown at him – Sif could easily be biding her time, feigning that she did not see him coming, waiting for him to come closer before striking him with a book or something of her convolesence – Thor walked up to within a few yards of where she sat in the yard, and he stood there patiently.

 

“Thor?”

 

“I bring news,” Thor said.

 

“You won,” Sif said, not taking her eyes off the glacially-melting snow.

 

“ _We_ won.”

 

“My prince is kind, to include my feint in his summary.”

 

“Also I spoke of Loki in my _we_ ,” Thor said.

 

Sif smiled.  “Then your faith in him was not misplaced.  Good.”  Her eyes looked at, about, and around Thor before returning to the landscape.  “Is Eir tending him?”

 

“Brunhild tends Loki now,” Thor apologized.

 

Sif jerked up, fixing her sharp eyes on Thor.  A corner of her mind turned traitor, wondering if Thor had taken the opportunity to remove a problematic threat to his mortal friends and the Realm he would inherit.

 

One said ‘gone to Hel’ or ‘go to Hela’ to speak of a dishonorable death.  Similarly, one said ‘gone to Brunhild’ for highly honorable deaths.

 

The fire left Sif’s eyes and she broke her glare.  “How badly he desired not to return to his cell,” she said.

 

“It was not that,” Thor said.

 

“?”

 

“May I sit?”

 

She gestured for him to do so.

 

“I would speak to you of what transpired.  May I?” Thor asked.

 

Feeling more wary than nervous, she asked him the thing she was thinking: “Since when does my prince require my permission to relate a tale?” Sif asked.

 

This seemed to make Thor have second thoughts about his visit, to judge from the looks Sif saw flitting across his face.

 

“I shall share with you the important part,” Thor said.  “And then take my leave so you may heal more fully, your heart as well as your body.”

 

To her, it felt like all the blood in her body abruptly stopped flowing, which created a very nasty headache.  “Then do not dally, Thor, and speak it.”

 

He nodded, dipped his head, and told her of the descent down the mountainside, of the impression of deception, and of the almighty battle the brothers engaged in with the enemy.   He omitted how Loki had introduced himself, _For I know not why he would speak so; I shall ask Father later._ Thor ended with, “Loki fought well, and together he and I deceived the Dark Elves.”

_Thor of Asgard, applying trickery.  Wonders do never cease._

 

“He saved Jane’s life, at risk to his own.  He saved my life, at the cost of his own.”  Thor tightened the grip of his fists, focusing on the pain.  “Loki destroyed the Kursed Dark Elf who slew Frigga our mother and who was about to slay me.”

 

“Ensuring he did not return to his cells.  Ensuring your last memory of him in combat would not be when he fought your friends.”

 

“I know.”

 

Sif knew Thor well enough to know that that wasn’t his way of saying ‘I agree.’  But she couldn’t answer that.

 

“I know Loki was dear to you, that you were dear to him.”

 

“My prince jests, thinking it would lighten the mood.”

 

“I jest not.”

 

“Then whomever spoke to you, mistook what she saw,” Sif said.

 

“My eyes are not mistaken.”

 

Sif said nothing, her tongue and her throat in dispute over how to answer that.

 

“Long have I known,” Thor assured her.  “And long have I held my tongue; fearing that were I to say something, it would part you.”

 

She looked at him as if to ask ‘what??’

 

“Loki explained to me why he was not serving as your patron – and why, by extension, I could not either…and it was the most threatening warning he had ever given me, I can assure you,” Thor said.  “That is also why I did not say anything:  for I feared that, if it had the approval of the House of Odin, with all that means, you would back away, and you and Loki would be miserable.”

 

“That’s why you held your tongue?” Sif asked.

 

“That and, so long as I did so, none bothered you with clucking about how you could do so much better than Loki,” Thor said, _I well understand the value of permitting misreadings_.  “Though I have always believed Loki to be the more marriageable of the two of us.”

 

Sif sat there, silent, chewing upon what Thor had told her.  “Moot, all of it is moot now.”

 

“No.  No, now you know more than you had before.  Loki repeatedly ensured I understood the importance of that, all our lives.”

 

She nodded.  And now I know that much more, and must live on.

 

In silence, they sat there, watching the cavalry horses graze.

* * *

**Soon:**  
"Are you the same one I spoke to the day I met Loki?" she asked, and got no answer. "Or are you another generation?"

The water table was high again, moistening her dangling feet. Many of the maggots were for now in shapes of salmon and lamprey.

"Do you miss him too? Do you notice his absence?" _I do._

* * *


End file.
